Precarious Friendship
by homicidalmommy
Summary: CHECK END OF CH. 9 FOR UPDATES! Naevia & Mira are slaves in the House of Quintus Lentulus Batiatus living under the same roof suffering different indignities, yet are able to forge a deep friendship. Begins at Ep. 10: "Party Favors". R&R, s'il vous plait!
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One **

"This way."

The boy flinched in embarrassment then fled to the baths. Naevia smiled despite herself. Still a boy and he wears the toga virilis tonight. So much potential for greatness… and for ruin, she realized, thinking of her own fifteenth year. Mira emerged from the far corner of the courtyard.

"I brought more Falonian wine up from the cellar, as requested." She proclaimed dutifully, and leaned in to whisper. "Is the dress new?"

"I shall require your assistance in the baths." Naevia responded in kind, and whispered. "No, you daft woman. It is simply washed."

Mira nodded, concealing a smile as she followed the boy. Naevia's rapport with every slave always made life under Batiatus' roof passing tolerable, but their growing friendship since the incident elated Mira. A constant fear nagged her though - happiness was a rare thing for a slave and the threat of loss was ever-present.

"The bath is filled. Leave." The boy ordered, trembling. The other slaves looked to Naevia.

"You do not require assistance?" She asked, watching him blush as red as an apple.

"I-I-I will not undress in front of _strangers_." He tried to be forceful, but the shiver in his chin betrayed him. Naevia bowed and left, the slaves following her. Just as well. Naevia was entrusted with the enormous task of organizing the slaves and the food by her Domina, and the importance was clearly stressed in those cold ice blue eyes. She instructed one slave to wait outside the baths in case the twitching boy required assistance and turned to the others.

"Domina requires all slaves be scrubbed clean and ready to serve the guests. Half of you bathe now, but do it quickly. The others will follow and ready themselves. Mira." She nodded toward her, leading her into the kitchen. "What is this I hear about Hector harassing you? Why did you not tell me?" She asked as they arranged the trays of food for the festivities.

"Naevia, he was looking for… the key. I did not tell him anything." Mira assured in a low tone, quickly touching Naevia's hand. Naevia flushed with anger and guilt at once.

"Mira. Apologies-"

"Tch. Put it from your mind. Spartacus taught him such a lesson he won't soon forget. Lay eyes upon his right cheek when you next see him; you will see a most unusual branding!" She laughed. The worry had not left Naevia's eyes but she did smile.

"Gratitude. I pray to the Gods every time I think of discovery..." Crixus was no longer champion - his trespasses would not be easily forgiven. Her own position was precarious and she feared what Lucretia might do in her passion.

"I thank the Gods for the day that I saw the key in your possession. It has brought us so much closer." Mira replied, and tucked her face away to appear nonchalant. "No matter how far our men may be from being friends."

Naevia looked at Mira in a playful, sideways glance. "So Spartacus is your _man _now, is he?" She teased Mira with her tone.

Mira quickly responded, tripping over her words. "Why else does he defend me? He refuses me because he believes that I am sent to him simply by Domina's will. He needs assurance of my affections." She attempted to convince herself of his feelings, but the man did not make it easy.

"It is not so simple with a gladiator. Especially not with Spartacus…" Naevia scoffed and busied herself with the fruit tray.

Mira grew concerned and pressed on. "What is your meaning?"

Naevia sighed. "He has always loved his wife, Mira, and he still does. With her gone, he cares only for the games. I have seen the man he was and the man he is now. He is changed - frigid and without emotion."

"Crixus once only cared for the games, only cared for the glory of the arena and the honor of the crowds. I hear he has moved to other passions of late?" Mira made a lewd gesture with her hands.

Naevia laughed. "You are grotesque!" She batted at Mira but then lowered her voice for fear of discovery. "I still warn you, as a friend. Proceed with as much caution as you can. Disappointment is a vile poison all slaves must learn to relish."

A guard approached the kitchen, fortunately not Hector. "Naevia. You are summoned."

Naevia nodded and smiled at the man - she recognized him as one of the kinder guards. After spending her whole life in the villa, she knew who to be wary of. "Finish here."

Mira whispered a term of endearment to her friend. "Miserable cunt."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

"Fuck."

Naevia raised an eyebrow at Mira, who stood pouting in her crimson dress. "And what has you in such a foul mood?"

"I thank Spartacus for his assistance in dealing with Hector and he spurns me like a dog, telling me he would do such a thing for any woman!" Mira rasped sharply, feigning interest in a jug of wine. "What else can be expected of me?"

"He always stands so firmly with Varro and never makes request for whores from Dominus. Perhaps he does not care for cunt." Naevia observed and her friend laughed, anger passing quickly. Mira glanced about the room with caution, in case Domina caught them gossiping instead of plying the guests with more food and wine.

"Speaking of cunt, why does Ashur eye you like a beast stalks its prey?" Naevia darted a quick glance at the Syrian. "His gaze is bold enough to cause concern."

Naevia glanced over at the man with disregard and shook her head. "More importantly, why does he converse with that snake Solonius? You needn't worry about Ashur, Mira. Domina would have his cock if he dared anything more than just a glance."

Mira placed full cups of wine on her tray. "I should return to my duties; the match starts soon."

"Yes." The lump in Naevia's throat felt larger as the time drew near.

"Why do you grow anxious?" Mira saw Domina and started to move away. "It is only exhibition. You worry too much, Naevia."

"With reason." Naevia muttered to herself and turned her attention to the other slaves.

As Batiatus began to announce the fight, Naevia's stomach churned with concern. She never validated nor openly disapproved Crixus' hatred for Spartacus, and the way Crixus eyed the Thracian all night made her wonder if he would not make good his word and spill blood, even if the crowd did not demand it.

"I fear Crixus has seen his best day past. I would have Varro fight in his place."

Naevia met Crixus' gaze and smiled with relief; he returned the smile, but she knew he was furious. The insult stung her as well, but she took comfort in the thought that Crixus would not foolishly risk his life to regain his title this night. The match would remain exhibition and the evening would flow without incident, as Dominus so carefully planned.

Mira watched Varro and Spartacus face each other like two brother cubs playing at killing each other. Her heart was sick for Spartacus, but just as Naevia watched over her and she watched over Naevia, Spartacus could depend on Varro for support and comfort. At least, she thought, the man I desire is not alone in this shithole. Varro was on his knees; Spartacus had bested him. Naevia winked at Mira and she felt her cheeks redden despite herself.

"Come Numerius! Pass judgment on our fallen warrior!"

The thumb pointed downward and a hush fell over the crowd.

"Numerius has made his decision. I will reimburse you the cost of the man."

Naevia looked at Mira with desperation. The fear was apparent in the girl's eyes; Naevia said a quick prayer to the Gods to spare Spartacus' life, for the sake of her friend.

"Proceed."

The guards gathered around the two men, both struggling with the limited choices that lay before them. The Romans whispered among themselves; they did not notice what the slaves watched keenly - Varro pleading with Spartacus, Spartacus' eyes glazed with still tears and wavering resolve.

"Live... And see my family provided for. And know I would have done the same."

Batiatus threw his cup of wine at the wall. "That shriveled cock! I bend to his every whim and instead of bestowing me with his blessings, he spreads my legs and fucks my ass!"

The guests had emptied the ludus, the slaves were clearing away the food and Lucretia attempted to calm the enraged lanista. "Quintus-"

"Then not only does his little shit son insult Crixus under my very roof, he forces the hand of my champion to slay Varro - the raising star of my ludus! FUCK!" Batiatus sat beside his wife, breathing with fury. Lucretia put her arm around him and squeezed hard. Her touch made his will a thing of stone and his mind cleared.

"Mira."

She stood patiently in the corner of the room; she knew she would be summoned.

"Dominus?"

"Go to Spartacus. He has lost the only friend he had in the ludus. He will need you to comfort him and turn his focus to the task. The games with Pompeii are almost upon us. This... distraction could prove fatal."

She nodded and was led by Hector to console the mourning champion. She traded a quick glance with Naevia, who placed a hand on her heart. Mira returned the gesture and quickly descended into the ludus.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Mira braced herself before proceeding toward Spartacus' room; despite his suffering, he could still shun her. She would not cause him offense while he mourned. As she entered the ludus, Mira heard shouting akin to an animal's cries, followed by loud crashes - the sounds terrified her.

Her ears did not prepare her for what her eyes beheld - Spartacus kneeling in the dust, everything around him shattered to pieces. Blood from his hands stained a dent in the wall and dripped from his knuckles onto the floor. Her heart seized in her chest and she moved toward him, saying nothing. She had seen anger, scorn and defiance in his beautifully expressive eyes; the agony in them now would haunt her sleep. When he did not push her caress away, she felt bold enough to kneel with him. Spartacus fell into her embrace like a child and shook his head, perhaps in denial of guilt or of the event itself.

Mira was still against Spartacus' hard, warm body until his tremors ceased, and then she leaned against the wall, guiding his head to her chest. She watched him fall into a troubled slumber.

Naevia waited for Hector to depart before rushing the clay stairs of the stores as Crixus hid in the shadows. She quickly opened the door and they embraced passionately, Crixus burying his face in her hair.

"I have truly fallen from the graces of the Gods. I am unworthy of your love." Crixus' grip grew tighter as he spoke. Naevia pulled back his head and took his face in her hands. How strange a face that could exhibit such anger and violence could also show tenderness and fragility in her small hands. She kissed his mouth, relishing the tingling in her skin.

"You are a champion. You always were a champion and you forever will be. Capua will again recognize your true worth, as I do." She kissed his forehead gently. "I thank the Gods for rescuing you from yourself tonight."

He looked at her quizzically. "What is your meaning? You think the Thracian could best me?" He looked down. "You too believe that my time has truly passed?"

"No. But Dominus allowed Numerius Varro's death. I was afraid that you would have taken Spartacus' life without orders… and without thought. Every time you enter the arena, I fear for you." She lifted his head and he smiled. She often wondered how one man could make her feel so bold when the many that preceded him barely caused notice. "Without you, I-"

"Such a day will never come." He said as he kissed her, running his hands hungrily over her body. She shrugged off her gown with ease and he slipped off his subligaria. "I will never allow it."

"Keep me close to you, Crixus." She whispered as he lay back and pulled her on top of him. She quivered with anticipation, the only pleasure in her life of pain, comfort in troubled circumstance. "Keep me safe."

Sunrise brought Doctore to the room of the Champion of Capua.

"Your kindness is greatly appreciated." A gracious smile from the harsh mentor of the ludus of Quintus Lentulus Batiatus.

Mira smiled back weakly, responding as she laid Spartacus' head on what remained of the bed. "By others, perhaps. The heart of the recipient is forever closed."

"He will recognize the worth of such friendship someday. But I would caution against loving him; this man gave his love to one woman, who took with it all with her to the afterlife."

She nodded ruefully and walked back to the villa. She knew he would not love her. And I if all they could offer each other was empathy, she would relish what little she received.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Mira stifled a yawn and stole a glance at Naevia, who looked equally fatigued as she stood by Lucretia vigilantly. The day began very early for the entire house of Batiatus, the sun still barely peeking over the hilltops of Capua – Dominus required all of his slaves to be on alert for some scheme to which no one was privy. Doctore was instructed not to awaken the Champion of Capua until Aurelia arrived to collect her husband's body. Mira, relieved, began to think that Batiatus' occasional mercies would see Spartacus through this difficult time.

"Send him in." Batiatus barked to Ashur, who quickly eyed Naevia before fetching the man at the gates. Lucretia watched her husband's every move, looking for any indication of what he was planning in retaliation against Magistrate Calavius. His face looked drawn but confident; she knew he spent all night plotting and now was solid in his purpose. Batiatus noticed his wife's stare. "The games with Pompeii are nearly upon us; I must turn focus to-"

"Do not think me a fool." She scoffed, her porcelain face shaded with concern. "Preparations for Pompeii would not occupy so much of your time. Or the time of the slaves." She smiled halfheartedly. "I could only assume you'd taken a mistress."

Quintus smiled at his wife and kissed her gently on the lips. "The less you know for now, the better. Such terrible things have loomed over this house for too long. I would look toward a time when the offerings of blood and sweat were simple memories and we are elevated to the fucking heavens."

Lucretia placed her hand over her belly; she felt uneasy and afraid. She trusted her husband but she could see the seething anger in his eyes. She prayed he would not do anything rash. "Quintus. I am your wife. I would share all with you. Should I not expect the same?"

Aulus appeared in the doorway and interrupted Lucretia's interrogation. His hungry eyes looked at Mira and he smiled lasciviously.

"I have noticed that man. Staring at you." Naevia mumbled, picking up a stray piece of rubbish left from the previous night.

"Stay." Commanded Lucretia, who then joined her husband in the other room.

"All men stare at me. For they know if they gain Dominus' favor, they may have me." Mira held her friend's arm affectionately. "Well, not _all_ men stare…"

Naevia sighed in frustration. "You remained with Spartacus throughout the night and he still does not desire you?"

"I am unsure. I-"

"Naevia!" Lucretia suddenly appeared and snapped angrily. Naevia followed her Domina obediently. Lucretia's every move was tense as she lay upon the chaise in her room and stretched. "Get me some water." Naevia did as commanded, fetching a washcloth as well.

Seeing the cloth, Lucretia smiled. "You know my needs before I do."

Naevia soaked the cloth and wiped her Domina's brow. "As you wish, Domina." Lucretia rested her eyes and let Naevia wipe her whole body down with water first, then perfumed oils. The massage brought some relief, but Naevia could see her Domina was not well. She dismissed the symptoms as stress from the tumultuous night she had in the wake of Numerius' toga virillis. Lucretia's eyes slowly closed and Naevia knelt on the floor near her feet, awaiting orders. As always, when she could spare a moment to herself, she thought of Crixus. And prayed.

A few hours of slumber passed before Mira appeared in the archway. "Apologies, Domina. Varro's wife has arrived to fetch her husband's body."

Lucretia stirred with difficulty. Mira shot a concerned glance at Naevia, who shrugged in response. The two escorted Lucretia to the terrace.

Mira watched as a forlorn Spartacus sent away his friend. He seemed so pale to her, even so far away, as if his friend's death was a physical ailment wracking his tired body.

Dominus' outburst returned as he stormed about his home. "But one that will be answered in kind."

"Out."

Naevia and Mira stole away, seeking Medicus for herb to last through the day with so little rest.

"Continue what was last spoken. Does Spartacus not desire you?"

Mira's heart ached at her friend's words. "As if the sun could melt a stone. I feel some warmth but…"

Naevia's cheeks were hot with anger. "That fucking man does not deserve such devotion from you. His wife is long dead, you tend to him as she would and he spurns you. Banish thoughts from your head that this man is-"

Mira softened her tone, grateful for Naevia's passion. "Naevia. If I banish these thoughts… what thoughts could I rely on in trying times?"

Naevia nudged her friend's shoulder. "Do thoughts of my friendship not warm your heart enough that you have to turn to a man who Venus has left cold and abandoned? Traitorous cunt!"

The two shared a laugh and embraced. Someone _does_ love me, Mira thought to herself. Someone cares for my well-being. Why should I not spread such rare joys to others?

The women almost did not notice Hector lurking in the shadows, a sly grin upon his deformed face. "Mira. You are summoned." He moved closer, his expression more eerie in the light than in the dark. "To suck the cock of Dominus' haggard dog Aulus." He brought his face a breath away from Mira's. "Does the thought please you?"

"Would it please you, Hector, for Spartacus to learn of your constant harassment of Mira? Perhaps he can even out your face."

Hector took in a sharp breath at Naevia's bitter words and led Mira away without touching her.

The day passed quickly and the slaves were sent back to quarters. The hour was late; it made union with Crixus impossible. On such nights, Naevia's body ached for him, her thighs longed to wrap around him, her skin begging for his touch. Mira entered the quarters; the sight of her friend eased Naevia's pain. But did not make her blind to Mira's discomfort.

"What happened? Are you well?"

Mira sat near the gate, leaning against the cold metal. "Rest assured, the Champion of Capua feels no love for me. It is decidedly so."

"What moved your mind to such certainty?"

"He witnessed me servicing Aulus' cock. When he later mentioned the sighting, he asked me to thank the man for attempting to defend his Sura. On the next occasion when he is given permission to touch me." Mira's mind swam; she thought she had established his apathy, but this new offense pained her.

Naevia said nothing. She slipped her arm around her friend and leaning against each other, they fell asleep.

3


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Word spread swiftly throughout the house of Batiatus of his late return from an unknown location. Rumors of blood and treachery were on every slave's tongue and seeped into Mira's ears as she ate a quick breakfast. She rose early to tend to her Dominus, briskly leaving a kiss on Naevia's cheek as she slumbered. An unexpected visitor awaited word at the gate. Batiatus, freshly dressed and washed, held audience.

"Do you know what you ask?"

Aurelia nodded, her shoulders curled up tensely around her neck. Mira wished to shake the idiot girl's shoulders loose and throw her out of the villa gates. Instead, she waited for her Dominus to speak.

"Aurelia. Spartacus has offered all future winnings to you and Varro's son-"

"Apologies!" Aurelia snapped then regained her composure. "Apologies. I would not have coin from… Spartacus. Or any other. If I had three days leave, I could attend to… pressing concerns. And then, with your well wishes, I would enter your employ to settle Varro's debts."

Batiatus pondered a moment and shrugged. Mira's stomach lurched. A foolish girl, to prefer becoming a common slave and relinquishing her freedom when a champion offered his substantial winnings. She would learn the consequence of her folly as soon as Batiatus orders her to service a shit like Aulus.

"Very well. Return three days hence and you will find a place in my villa. Mira will receive you and acquaint you with the others."

Aurelia nodded her head. "Dominus."

Batiatus turned to Mira. "Do not mention this to your champion, Mira. Distraction against Pericles could prove fatal." Mira nodded but she could burst. Quite the task to keep such unfortunate tidings to herself.

Lucretia remained in her chambers for most of the morning, struggling to make arrangements for refreshment in the pulvunus for the games with Pompeii. With every exertion, she grew paler.

"Apologies, Domina. If I may offer suggestion?"

Lucretia glanced at Naevia as she swept perspiration from her brow. "Speak."

"Perhaps you could rest a moment, since the day is still newborn. There is much time to prepare for Pompeii."

Lucretia leaned back on the chaise and closed her eyes. "Suggestion is happily received." She then added, almost as an afterthought. "You needn't exhibit such _fear_ in speaking with me, Naevia."

Naevia approached her Domina with a moist cloth. "Perhaps you mistake fear for respect, Domina." She spoke gently. She tried to conceal the guilt in her voice. Though the thought of Crixus inside Lucretia sickened her, she could not help but pity her childless mistress. Another foolish gesture borne of a foolish heart.

"Hm." Lucretia was already half asleep. Barely an hour passed when Dominus entered the room in fury and began to disrobe with the help of a slave. He quieted himself when he noticed Lucretia asleep on the chaise but she still stirred. A thought toward Mira quickly passed through Naevia's mind.

"Even with the rains, this fucking heat is unbearable." Batiatus looked at his wife. "Are you unwell, Lucretia?"

Lucretia adjusted her hair. "No illness a quick slumber could not cure. What business was my husband attending to while I neglected my duties as his wife?"

Quintus softened his tone; Lucretia did look ill. "Spartacus will not partake in the primus against Pericles. An untended wound infected. He burns with savage fever. I sent Mira to assist Medicus with his treatment." He said solemnly. He shook his head, still in disbelief. "The Gods continue to rain piss and shit on me." He sat with his wife.

"Perhaps this unfortunate event presents fresh opportunity." Lucretia suggested and Naevia noticed a forced steadiness in her voice. We all conceal something behind our facades.

"Your meaning?" Quintus asked. Lucretia glanced at Naevia.

"Out."

Naevia backed out of the room. Every movement of her Domina caused her concern. Why does she send me away when I am her most trusted slave? Does she suspect me of treachery? Has she discovered my liaisons with Crixus? What will she do to me? Naevia hastened herself to the kitchen to still her thoughts.

"I bring you food and water, Mira."

Mira smiled at her friend and glanced over her shoulder. "We are making good use of our slave, are we not?" She whispered with a wink. Hector brooded at the gate of the ludus.

Naevia was glad to see her friend in such high spirits. "How fares your champion?"

The darkness of worry cast a shadow over Mira's face. "Unwell. His body quakes so severely, Medicus and I have strapped him to a slab. He believes this is punishment for the death of Varro." Mira drew Naevia closer. "But what he does not know would surely break his will to fight for life."

"Why? What news would shatter him so?" Naevia asked, gripping her friend's wrist. Hector moved closer but stayed back at Naevia's cold glare.

"Aurelia, widow to Varro, joins the House of Batiatus as a slave three days hence. She will not take Spartacus' generous offers. Stupid bitch." She hissed.

Naevia softened. "Mira… she perceives Spartacus her husband's murderer. Would you take coin from a man who killed your beloved, despite his helplessness in the matter?"

Mira's eyes darted toward Spartacus, unconscious and near death. "I fear he may soon join her husband. Then her vengeance would be served."

"I must return to the villa. Eat. Drink. Perhaps your strength will aid in the recovery of Spartacus' might." Naevia kissed her friend on the forehead like a mother, and Mira's anger washed away. Perhaps she was being too harsh on the fool Aurelia. She witnessed the love between husband and wife - perhaps jealousy caused her anger. Despite Aurelia's loss, to have loved a man who returned in favor was enviable. Mira returned to her task; the life of a slave became so busied that one could not pause to bemoan their tragedies.

Mira returned to the slave quarters to rest as quietly as she could. Naevia, however, was accustomed to being aroused from bed to service her Domina. Her eyes fluttered open.

Mira peered at her friend. "You look well fucked."

Naevia batted her with her hand. "A vigorous night with Crixus; he has the Primus against Pompeii absent Spartacus. My affection for you and worry for Crixus prevented me from enjoying his elevation." Naevia cleared a corner for her friend, placing a cushion at her head. There was a time that the slaves of Batiatus slept in dust and wore dresses clumsily patched up by Naevia. The new riches afforded even the slaves some meager luxury. "How fares your champion?"

"The tremors cease but fever still clings hungrily. Do you think your man has recovered fully from his wounds?"

"I do not know. He is confident of his fortune. He gives promise never to leave my side…" Naevia looked deeply troubled.

"But?" Mira prompted, touching Naevia's shoulder.

Naevia choked upon the words. "I fear for him, Mira. For us. We have our stolen moments of glory but to what end? One day, he may fall. Domina could discover our trysts. Our love balances upon such a thin thread-"

"You _have_ love, Naevia. What slave can claim the same? I have serviced so many men, ordered by my masters, the numbers escape me." Mira shook away Naevia's pitiful look. "Treasure what you possess now; do not occupy yourself with thoughts of loss."

Naevia curled against her cushion, like a child. "Every moment brings us closer to ruin."

"Every moment brings every slave closer to ruinous fate. Still yourself. Rest so that you may cheer your man in the pulvunus. As for me," Mira untied the halter of her dress to ease comfort. "I must rest so that I may, on the morrow, save a man who does not love me. And _that_ is fucking _exhausting_!"


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

"The crowd will be amazed… that the Gaul is still alive."

The fat Pompeian's words echoed in Naevia's ears as match upon match was presented to the crowds of Capua. The Primus grew near and each fallen gladiator bore Crixus' face. She remembered the ache she felt when Crixus fell to Theocoles, his struggle to bring sword and shield back in his hands. Lucretia looked increasingly faint; could it be the heat? Naevia wondered. The long wait for the arrival of Magistrate Calavius? Or did her Domina truly love Crixus and worried for his sake? Naevia could not hold blame against Lucretia. Or Illythia for that matter. Crixus was such a man, he deserved desire. And love. Mira was right; she must savor what little fortune she had and turn thoughts from loosing the Gods' favor.

"I pray the match is overly brief."

I pray the puny cock that you cannot see beneath that pigfuck belly shrivels off and dies. Naevia smiled despite herself. Mira proved a terrible influence on her.

The Primus began late in the day and the already angered crowd booed at the sight of Crixus. The defeated Gaul. Former Champion of Capua. Their jeers sank Naevia's spirits, as did each blow to her lover's perfect form. She imagined kissing his granite jaw, every inch of his marble flesh, the skin surprisingly smooth and soft to the touch, convincing herself the thoughts were of future trysts and not remembrance of times never to return.

"Another year, another favored son of Capua gone to grass."

Naevia's skin crawled; she could wrap her hands around the man's thick throat for thinking such thoughts.

"Look! He yet rises!" Lucretia swooned, and Naevia caught her, plying her with water.

"No arguments. I will join you afterwards."

No… "Dominus." Crixus would not see her in the pulvunus. One more of many concessions in the life of a slave. She prayed he would forgive her offense.

"Medicus? Mira?" Mira hastened at the sound of Spartacus' voice. She tried to avoid lingering around Aulus when he arrived earlier; the man may have demanded service and distracted her from Spartacus' care. She fell asleep against the walls of the infirmary.

"I'm here. I'm here. Be still. Your fever is broken. The Gods have blessed you." The kind words spilled from her mouth. Why do I allow myself to return to loving this man?

"I would speak to this man, alone." Mira looked at him askance. "Towards what purpose?"

"Do this for me, Mira. I will be in your debt." She hesitated. How much can this man ask of her? Her own reply startled her: everything. She left him to the man, only to hear sounds that frightened.

"And never speak of this." She heard his voice, but her eyes were trained on Aulus, dead and limp on the slab. She hurried out of the room, passing Medicus. "The champion rises, Aulus fell." She muttered to him, her heart quickening. She nearly knocked Naevia over. "Apologies!"

Naevia gripped Mira's shoulders. "Are you ill, Mira?"

"What? Oh, no. I…" She decided to withhold the dangerous information from Naevia; the woman's brow was creased with heavy concern. "Do not concern yourself with my madness. Why are you so troubled?"

"Domina fell faint in the pulvunus. I was unable to watch the conclusion of the Primus." Naevia's face was damp; Mira smoothed the moisture away with her dress. "I do not know if Crixus survived. I do not know if he lives or if he fell under Pericles' sword." She attempted to compose herself. "I go to fetch more water for Domina."

Mira grabbed her friend into a tight embrace, attempting to wrest the concern from her body. She set aside her worries and the shock of Aulus' murder. "Crixus will survive. Champions are forged of Vulcan's steel-"

"The magistrate is dead! Solonius murdered Calavius!" A slave shouted from the streets. The women ran to the terrace and beheld Crixus in the square, quieting the hysterical slave boy.

"What nonsense do you speak?" Crixus growled, motioning to the others for water. He noticed Naevia on the terrace and gave her a quick nod.

Naevia quivered. "Your champion yet lives." Mira said, her arm circling her friend's waist.

"As does yours." Naevia watched Spartacus slake the boy's thirst.

Finally he spoke. "Dominus discovered Solonius in the cisterns; he murdered Calavius. Our magistrate is dead!"

"Mira!" Dominus beckoned. The women exchanged glances and reluctantly parted ways.

The following day was tumultuous. Arrangements for Solonius' execution ad gladium brought activity under Batiatus' roof to a fever pitch. The day arrived; Spartacus would take the sands against Solonius. Naevia perched in the pulvunus with her Domina, as Crixus pointed his helmet to her, drenched in victorious blood. "For you!" Her heart swelled to bursting. For her. This is what was stolen from her at the Primus against Pompeii. The pride she felt knowing that the heart of such a man belonged to her. She stole a glance to Lucretia, who looked equally flattered.

Spartacus took the sand and toyed with Solonius before removing his head. Indeed, it seemed Spartacus was a formidable opponent. But he lacked Crixus' charm and ability to inspire the crowds, even as Bringer of Rain. Naevia admonished herself; she was biased of course. She knew he also lacked Crixus' heart, one that could appreciate love with an unmatched passion.

The masters and slaves of the House of Batiatus returned to the villa and Mira nodded at her friend. Word of Crixus' showing in the arena already reached her ears, though all agreed the true spectacle was the Champion of Capua avenging the people and killing Solonius with good show.

"Mira?" She heard Doctore's voice beckon her, always kind. Strange how such a man could be so cruel to his gladiators in training but so soft to each woman of the ludus, without ulterior motive.

"Doctore."

"Dominus orders you to distract the Champion. I do not believe you would object to such a request.

She reddened and said nothing, slipping past the jesting man. She passed Dominus and Ashur, who was adorned in new robes fitting someone high above the Syrians station. She heard words passing between them that would return to her as terrible specters, like so many ghosts crowding her mind.

"I confess to certain longings. For one not yet soiled by the other men."


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

Mira drew closer to the champion's quarters, with a confidence she did not recognize. She tended his wounds, concealed his crime and obeyed his every command without resistance. Perhaps now, her unshaken loyalty etched in stone, Spartacus would see her as more than just a puppet of Batiatus, but as a woman of some (albeit tainted) honor. His refusal of her touch caused the veneer of her confidence to chip, but only slightly. His rough calloused fingers gently took her hand and she instantly forgave him. She could see the troubled thoughts behind entrancing blue eyes; tension flowing under his rigid muscles.

"I fear Batiatus suspects my hand in Aulus' death."

He lies, she thought and pressed forward. He lies to spare me some darker purpose and I will see the matter revealed. He lies to spare me.

"His hands robbed Sura of life. By the command of Batiatus."

Mira's heart seized in her chest. Sura. The name of his late wife, a name Mira could never forget because it wounded her so. The very utterance of her name brought to life a Spartacus Mira could never know, a man Mira craved to revive. I must inform him of the law, he will hear of it and I am certain he will stop-

"Each to his own fate. And I to mine."

"Mira! Why do you return from the ludus so soon?" Lucretia asked, obviously in a foul mood.

Mira wished her Domina would not press her so. Her skin felt cold and her mind was numb. In such a state, she could loose her already flimsy self-control. "The champion, though revived enough for training, has not fully recovered."

Lucretia scoffed. "I know of such ailments. I require your assistance; you must ready Naevia." She turned from her slave to hide her distain. "She lies with… Ashur this night."

Mira was not shocked at the statement. She nodded at her Domina and silently followed her to the room where Naevia stood, trembling.

"See how the poor girl shivers at the thought of a man's touch. I remember such trepidation when I first lay with my husband." Lucretia gently placed her hands upon Naevia's shoulders.

Mira wished she could laugh at Lucretia but her mind stilled her tongue. Lucretia left the women alone in silence; neither spoke nor moved until they were sure that Lucretia could not hear them.

"Oh, Mira!" Naevia collapsed against her friend; Mira could not lift her arms to embrace her.

"You must stop crying." Mira finally raised her arms to pull Naevia away from her. "Intense reaction will cause concern and suspicion." Mira shook her slightly. "You must stop this crying. Tears are difficult to conceal from our masters, no matter how much we will them to conceal themselves on our cheeks."

"If I could control my heart, I would not have cause to weep today." Naevia looked up at her friend, confused by her apathy. "Are you well?"

"Ah! Yes! Control!" Mira's mind snapped and her tongue was loose; if Spartacus gave no shit if she died, why would Crixus be any different? I must rescue my friend from her fucking delusions. "We are simple things, aren't we women? We have no control over our stupid fucking hearts. We believe in false hope and dream of luxuries we could never achieve. I with my concern for Spartacus and you with your barren love for Crixus!"

Naevia's tears stopped, her sadness replaced with confusion. "What new offense has Spartacus-"

Mira busied herself with wiping the telltale trails from Naevia's face, never meeting her friend's eyes. "Nothing. I was a fool… _we_ were fools to ever assume we were worthy of love. We are base _slaves_, Naevia. You could be sent to Brittania at our master's whim and all the might of the great savage Gaul who proclaims his undying love for you would amount to nothing! He would wake the next morning, take the sands, a few battles passed in the arena, and he would forget your name. Your name, your face would mean nothing to him."

Naevia shook her head and slipped into the clean dress Lucretia brought her with difficulty. Mira's words stung her and she knew the Thracian must have injured her friend deeply for her to spew such venom. "You are wrong. For Crixus, there is no glory in the arena without me. He loves me; he would find a way."

Mira laughed cruelly. "Oh? And then what? He would bring you back into the servitude under the roof of Batiatus? Where you would suck Ashur's cock while Crixus would fuck you when he - if he could ever find a chance?"

Anger replaced confusion and Naevia turned to her friend, enraged. "Mira! What moves you to speak of such horrible declarations? I do not know what path the Gods lay before Crixus and I. I could never predict Dominus would gift me to the fucking Syrian. But I have faith in our love. Loving Spartacus was your own folly, I warned you of-"

"Gratitude. I should have preformed _my_ duty as friend and warned you. No matter how much you rise in the esteem of your masters, they are still your masters." Mira brought her face close to Naevia. "And you are just a fucking slave."

Naevia turned to leave, and then glanced back at Mira. "You do speak the truth. I thought my life was nightmare and Crixus' love was my escape to waking pleasures. I was wrong. Apologies."

Suddenly, Mira felt consumed with the urge to stop Naevia, to pull her close, kiss her cheeks, beg her forgiveness. But her feet remained planted firmly in the cold marble of her master's villa.

"My heart quickens at such a vision."

Naevia fought to conceal her emotions, but her face revealed distress. As Ashur moved closer to her, her skin prickled in defense. But she could do no more to protect herself. Mira was right; she was a slave, to act only as commanded by her Dominus. Why does he mention Barca? She wondered, offering innocent response. Naevia wished he would just finish this and stop this torturous conversation, but the delay allowed her a just few more moments as a woman only touched by the man she loved.

"You tremble. Has a man never kissed you? Caressed the soft curves of your hips, slipped inside of you…"

She imagined her champion's hands, his massive arms, the thrust of him inside her driving her to maddening ecstasy. A fleeting thought pleaded to the Gods: Take my life now; I cannot bear this. "Domina has seen me remain untouched."

"Then we are both in her debt." Ashur finally placed his hands on her body and her heart broke. Absent the protection of her man and the loving support of her friend, Naevia felt utterly alone. Ashur laid her down upon the bed and she turned her face away. His hand grasped her face with a firm tug, and he kissed her roughly as he disrobed.

"Open your eyes, Naevia." The tears did not leave her eyes, but he could see the wells between her lashes. "I want you to look at me as I enter you." She obeyed his command.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

"Watch what you're fucking doing! Fuck. Be careful with that!"

Batiatus is in a fine mood, Mira thought bitterly, as she followed orders in preparation for the arrival of the Legatus. Naevia avoided her, still seeing anger in her eyes. Mira both hated and preferred the avoidance; she wished she could speak to her friend but how would she ask for her forgiveness? Mira knew she was cruel to Naevia but truth itself is cruel. Who knew how many other men Naevia would service now that, at least according to Domina, her chastity was taken by Ashur? Was she not obligated to prepare her friend for such a draining life?

Spartacus was presented to Dominus and Mira watched him move toward a paring knife, sitting next to a bowl of fruit. She held her breath and every muscle was at attention. Naevia followed Mira's gaze, watched Spartacus' fingers dance closer to the knife. The pieces suddenly fell into place. Naevia knew now why Mira was so inflamed.

"Aurelia!" The Thracian's hand drew back at the sight of Varro's wife, chains about her neck, her shoulders curved forward in servitude. "She is a good woman and worthy of consideration."

Mira's skin burned as her mind raced with thoughts of self-defense. What then defines a good woman worthy of consideration? Of life? What excludes a woman forced into slavery from the ranks of good women who volunteered? She rushed after Hector.

"I require words with Spartacus."

"Why the fuck would I allow that?"

Mira's anger emboldened her. Love weakens, hate strengthens. "Because my tongue remains silent toward the gate key you lost. You would have it remain so?" The guard retreated in his cowardice, and Mira turned her gaze to Spartacus. The sight of him still made her ache but she was unmoved in her purpose.

"Varro was as a brother; I will not see his wife put at risk."

The words would leave an acrid taste in the back of her throat but she spoke them nonetheless, distancing herself from loving the man. "You put the woman at risk when you killed her husband." She left him stunned and turned to Hector. "I am done with him. You may proceed." The guard sneered at her haughty demeanor and shoved the Thracian toward the ludus.

Mira returned and Naevia watched her closely. Mira's rage was renewed by Spartacus' newest offense. "Fetch the last tray from the table!" Mira snapped at Aurelia, who nearly stumbled on herself as she rushed to the task. Aurelia returned, bewildered. Naevia pitied the girl, but if Aurelia was to be a slave, she would have to be accustomed to receiving pressing orders. "No, that goes to the balcony." Mira hissed. "Quickly, the Legatus arrives!"

Naevia lifted her eyes at Mira; her harshness bordered on excess. Mira's eyes met Naevia's and spontaneously filled with burning tears. Mira could not bear the woman she was becoming but the new attitude was necessary for survival. Naevia bit her lip. Since her first night with Ashur, she found it difficult to look at or talk to anyone, especially Mira. One question hung upon her lips, one she could never ask her friend: When does the pain fade?

Consumed by her thoughts, Naevia barely noticed Illythia's arrival and Dominus' hasty departure. Mira looked with concern; Naevia's face seemed almost gray.

"Naevia. Fetch Crixus. Quickly." Lucretia barked and left the room, removing her gown while she walked; a slave scooped the garment off the floor before it was dirtied. Naevia was frozen with panic. Fetch Crixus? She had been forced to relinquish herself to Ashur, a man Crixus once compared to a slimy shit-eating eunuch. How could he see her so fallen?

"Naevia." Mira took her arm and pulled her to the stairway. Mira gently kissed her friend's cheek; she tasted tears. "Be strong." Mira left with haste; despite the need to say so much more, there was still much to do before the Legatus arrived. Naevia saw her love, pacing like a lion poised to fight, behind the bars as the door to the ludus was opened. When he saw her, his face burst in a sly grin. He wore the same expression when they first kissed.

"I cannot meet you." She said, trying to sound strong, trying with all her might to put Mira's advice to good use. Her chin quivered.

"Tis but one night. There's no cause for this."

Why does he court me as if he were a common man and I a woman? Does he not know we are slaves, unable to divine our own fortunes? "Dominus has given me to another."

Rage flashed across his face. Crixus the impassioned lover became Crixus the fierce gladiator. "Who? Tell me his name!"

For the briefest of moments, she imagined telling him the truth: he charges out of the ludus, grabs a guard's sword and runs the cunning Syrian through. He grabs her by her waist and heads toward the gates of the villa, when several guards descend upon them. She watches with horror as her love fights valiantly until one guard catches her by the hair, places a dagger to her neck and orders him to stop. Desperate, he drops his sword. Hector, his deformed face twisted in a sickening grin, slits his throat; her Crixus is no more.

"What does it matter?" She said instead, stirring from her nightmare. "We have lived in a dream. And now we must awaken."

She left Crixus with Lucretia; he would give himself to his Domina as she gave herself to Ashur. She closed her eyes tightly and covered her ears with her hands to block out the sounds of their lovemaking, when she heard - "Naevia!"

Naevia rushed into the room, Mira at her heels, and Crixus aided her in laying Lucretia on the chaise. Mira watched as Naevia gently placed Lucretia's head on the pillow with disgust tinged with sadness. Still loyal, still loving.

"Mira, escort Crixus back to the ludus. And fetch the Medicus." Naevia motioned to another slave. "Water!" Her first words to Mira since their disagreement were spoken curtly. Mira obeyed and walked with Crixus to the ludus.

"Mira," Crixus grabbed her arm to speak with her. "Who is this man Dominus orders Naevia to lie with? I must know!" The urgency in his voice was streaked with pain.

"I… I do not know. I was not told." Mira lied; she had seen gladiators loose mind and tear at anything around them in their despair. "Apologies, I must fetch the Medicus."

"Please, Mira." Crixus pleaded, risking discovery. He did not know the secrets Mira and Naevia shared.

"I do not know!" Mira shook her arm loose in frustration. "Domina is unwell. If I am delayed, I will be met with severe punishment. I would not risk it for idle conversation." She left him at the gates and brought the Medicus to her Domina.

Lucretia looked better; when she swooned, her pale skin glistened with sweat. The Medicus lifted her dress and emerged with a grin. Best day of his life, Mira mused and she ached to share the jest with Naevia.

"No need to worry, Domina. The illness brings with it joyous tidings."

An hour passed, the flies circling the feast set ceremoniously on tables for the Legatus and Batiatus returned, absent the man and in a flurry of anger. Upon seeing his wife, surrounded by concerned slaves, his fury promptly disappeared. Mira envied her Domina then, to have a man be moved by her discomfort, breath itself stopping in his chest at the sight of distress to the woman he loves. "What's happened?"

Lucretia smiled and Naevia cringed. "I am with child. You're to be a father, Quintus." Naevia tried to set aside the possibility that Crixus was the father; Domina would never claim it so, but the thought plagued her. Naevia imagined carrying Crixus' child in her womb, witnessing her man holding their child for the first time, his massive arms cradling the tiny frail creature with care. A terrifying thought entered her mind. What if Ashur desired children?

Mira read the fear in her friend's eyes. Night fell and Mira stayed with her Domina, as Naevia was, once again, sent to Ashur's arms.

He was rougher this time, tugging at her hair when he bent her over the bed. She suffered in silence, until he whispered in her ear: "Tell me who you belong to, Naevia. Tell me."

"You. I belong to you."


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

Naevia looked paler; the smooth sun-kissed skin Mira once envied was almost sallow. She drifted into the main hall of the villa; the Legatus was sure to arrive that very day. Mira's now constant anger shifted to the wretched snake Ashur, as she watched the woman once her friend reduce to a sickly phantom of the person she was. Thankfully, Domina was consumed with preparations for the Legatus and for the coming child; she failed to notice how Naevia's eyes darted about in fear.

"Mira! Aurelia! Bring as much wine as your arms can bear. Perhaps Glaber can cool his infamously heated temper with drink." Lucretia turned to Naevia. "Where the fuck is that dress?"

"Follow me." Mira said abruptly and the girl followed. Aurelia was frightened of her and Mira sneered at her insecurity. Bitterness simmered quietly in Mira's chest for quite some time, and Aurelia's presence simply added kindle to the flame. Mira's fuming was interrupted by a shatter. She turned her head sharply to the girl, stunned with a puddle of wine at her feet.

"Fetch another. And hold on to it this time." She snapped and Aurelia clumsily grabbed more wine. If she drops this jug, I swear on Juno's cunt-

"Aurelia. I beg a moment." Mira saw the Thracian standing behind the ludus gates. "Alone."

I could slap that fucking tone out of his mouth, she thought as she walked up the stairs. She crouched near the entry, straining her ears to hear their conversation.

"Varro's son. Is he safe?"

Mira listened to Aurelia's reply, her child-like voice heavy with pain. She felt a sting of pity for the girl, but quickly discarded it.

"What of the child in carry?"

She caught her breath. How could the pregnancy slip her mind? Aurelia's belly was swollen when Mira reunited her with Varro by Spartacus' request. The tremor in Aurelia's voice exposed the truth: the child, definitely not of Varro's flesh, was conceived against her consent. Mira knew that tremor well; the vibrations shook her soul once too… before she learned to submit to her fate. Naevia's brief words to her the day before attempted to conceal a similar quivering.

"My husband is dead. And with him all faith."

Mira heard Aurelia approach and hastened ahead of her to avoid suspicion of eavesdropping. Aurelia held the jar in her hands, unsure of its destination. Suddenly the girl's meekness, which drove her mad only moments before, pained her.

"Put that jug on the balcony table." Mira said gently, taking Aurelia by surprise. Naevia witnessed the kindness and her face brightened momentarily, a single lamp flickering in a moonless night. A dubious hope entered her mind: perhaps the Gods will spare my friend.

The Legatus arrived and as the meeting progressed, Naevia strained to catch Mira's gaze. Mira's small kindness to Aurelia gave her some fortitude to look her friend in the eye. She desperately needed Mira's aid to survive this new turn in her life and continuing without her was impossible. The Legatus commanded the gladiators be presented before him in the villa and Mira looked at Naevia with worry. She shares my burden, Naevia thought and she touched her fingers to her lips, placed it subtly over her heart. Mira returned the gesture and clutched her hand to her chest. Strength, Naevia. Strength.

"Which of my men would you have oppose him?" Upon hearing this from her Dominus, Naevia made a silent prayer to the Gods that may have abandoned her that Crixus be spared.

"None. Formation!"

Mira's eyes grew wide as she watched the Champion stand alone on the platform, wooden swords at his side. He is callous, she mused, but he is honorable. May the Gods keep you, Spartacus. Glaber called forth his men one by one. Mira watched with pride as Spartacus, Bringer of Rain, sent each tumbling to the marble floors. She almost did not notice Ashur approaching Naevia.

"Kneel and it shall be so." At these words, Spartacus looked at Aurelia and, without reluctance, kneeled to Glaber. Mira felt a pang of jealousy but mostly pitied the man. If she did not turn her head at that very moment, she may have missed it. But she moved.

Ashur crept behind Naevia and, as Crixus watched, moved a lock of her hair. Naevia could not look away from her love. Her strength broke and an unwilling plea brimmed in her eyes as tears. She would later lament - the pitiful look in her eyes drove Crixus to madness.

"You fucking cunt!" Crixus leapt and pushed Ashur to the ground, away from his woman. He broke the man's nose with one blow and was poised to kill him when Spartacus and Doctore rescued him from himself. "Calm yourself!" Spartacus pleaded. Mira attempted to move closer to Naevia, but was blocked by guards and soldiers.

"I felt her maidenhood long absent when we lay together. Now I know whose cock was in her first."

Naevia looked at Lucretia; her eyes were ablaze with hatred. Naevia knew Domina would eventually discover the affair and she surrendered herself to her fate. Domina will kill me, she thought as Lucretia dragged her painfully by her arm. She watched as Mira struggled toward her, her face contorted in desperation. By Jupiter's mercy, my friend should not witness the act.

Domina slammed her against the walls. On the floor of her room. Kicked her. Raged at her. Naevia winced at the pain but did not cover herself from Lucretia's blows. Mira watched in helpless horror as her friend was brutally beaten. Her eyes found a knife lying on a small table beside some fruit. "What is it? What is it?" Lucretia asked. Naevia could not relinquish so easily the only concrete memento of the love she and Crixus shared. "Give it to me. Give it to me!" She peeled furiously at Naevia's fingers and finally pulled the gate key from her grasp. "How did you come by it?"

"I took it." She admitted, wondering how long Lucretia would beat her before slitting her throat, as Dominus did with the Carthaginian beast.

"To open the gate so you could lie with Crixus. You alone knew of my feelings for him and yet you betray me."

Naevia barely felt the sting of the slap upon her face; the word betrayal stung with ferocity. Betray _her_? With purchased loyalty? What of my life? After caring for your every fucking need, what loyalties do you bear toward me? Naevia felt a sudden urge to injure Lucretia deeply. "Crixus never loved you. He did only as commanded." For one moment in her lifetime of servitude, Naevia felt free.

Lucretia let out a strange, primal sound and wrapped her hands around Naevia's neck. Mira's eyes looked upon the knife again. Fuck all of those cunts. I will not see Naevia die before my eyes, not without putting down this wretched bitch. She took one step toward the knife; she could almost feel the cold wooden handle under her skin. Lucretia stopped choking Naevia and an evil smile crept along her face. "Mira."

"Domina."

"Bring me a knife." Lucretia flung Naevia to the ground. She then bent down and gripped Naevia's hair, madly feeling it between her fingers. Mira quickly fetched another knife from the banquet table and tucked the other in her belt, adamant in her decision. If Spartacus can risk every slave in this house for his love, I can do the same for one who loves me. "It seems a shame, does it not? To see such luxurious hair on a common whoring slave?" Lucretia brought her face close to Naevia's. "We shall remedy that shortly. Mira, shear this bitch until she is no longer so fucking lovely. I must return to Dominus."

Mira stood in her place until Domina could be heard in the other room. She then lifted Naevia off of the ground and into her lap, sobbing. Naevia could no longer contain her tears and wept with her. She felt the knife at Mira's hip. "What-"

Mira threw it on the ground and wrapped her arms around Naevia. "I… how could I stand idle as that whoring Gorgon stole my friend from this world? I could not." She buried her face in Naevia's hair and held her tighter. "I would sever my own hands before destroying any part of you."

"Then you must take the knife." Naevia pulled away and held her friend's face. "_You_ are a part of me. Domina will not spare you if you do not obey."

Mira's trembling hands lifted the knife and gently began cutting Naevia's hair. She noticed wounds upon her scalp where Domina struck her and carefully avoided them. "Domina will send you away. She would not remove your locks if she intended to kill you."

Naevia's tears had ceased; she sat limply on the floor. "Ashur touched this hair and Crixus raged. Seems fitting that the offending locks be discarded." Mira stroked the remaining hair with love.

"Mira. You are summoned." The guard saw the women's faces and promptly turned away. "Domina asks me to complete the task; she requires your presence on the balcony. I will return momentarily. Say your farewells." He waited patiently, far from earshot.

Mira turned Naevia's face toward her and kissed her mouth. "My dearest friend. I love you."

Naevia could feel Mira's tears on her face. "I love you. Goodbye, Mira. May Fortuna keep you."

Mira shook her head and hugged Naevia tightly. "Do not say goodbye. Let us live in our dreams, in our hopes. I give no shit to the waking world. I would pray to see you again, in Crixus' arms. Growing old together. Our grandchildren run wildly through the hills of a distant land far from Capua. We will watch them and ponder a time long ago when we were in bondage."

Naevia smiled weakly. "It is a fine dream." She whispered.

Mira choked on a sob. "I will not release you."

"You must. To make our dream a reality, you must. Go." Mira wrested herself from Naevia's grasp and ran down the corridor, willing her feet to keep moving, do not turn back, keep moving. Naevia watched the guard approach. "Gratitude."

"In exchange for kindnesses you have shown me. My hands are unsteady." The guard lifted the knife, slightly nicking her scalp. She did not move. "Apologies."

"None required." She said and felt him cut away most of her hair slowly but unevenly. He removed the ring from her neck and led her down to the villa gates.

Hector's head was flung from the balcony as Crixus was prepared for his punishment. Mira watched, hoping the cool water hid the tear stains on her face. Doctore moved with deliberation, and Mira felt sympathy for the man. He punished his friend as she was forced to punish Naevia. The first lash struck and Mira saw Aurelia cringe, her eyes never lifting from the floor. Embrace the pain, Doctore always said, it is the only way. Embrace all pain.

"I expect your meetings with Crixus to end."

Mira heard the words and derived some comfort from the fact that Lucretia could no longer use Crixus after snatching Naevia from his hands. The fear in Lucretia's eyes gave Mira some measure of vengeance.

"Enough!"

Mira followed Domina into the villa as Naevia was brought into the square. She ran toward Crixus; she lost all sense when she saw him bound, splatters of his blood on the sand behind him.

"Crixus!" She held his face as he wept. My mighty Crixus, the savage Gaul. Weeping like a babe. She felt a well of anger. That fucking Ashur.

"I have destroyed us."

She remembered Mira's words: Let us live in our dreams. "We yet live."

"Where do they take you?"

She wished she knew the answer. Providing Crixus with hope would be difficult. "I do not know."

"I will win my freedom. I will not rest until I find you."

The pain in his voice stripped her of any strength remaining in her bruised body. She felt his face underneath her fingertips as she was pulled away, savoring each fleeting second of warmth. The warmth of her Crixus' skin. Suddenly, she thought of Pietros… and Barca.

"He speaks of freedom, as did Barca." She knew now how she could exact a small revenge. Ashur prodding her, to the point of mockery, about her conversation with Doctore. The man deserves the truth, she though. And I shall give it to him. "No, you must not let him broach the subject. Barca was not freed. Batiatus took his life."

The look of mixed anger and confusion satisfied her as the guards took her away, to some unknown destination. Whatever Fortuna has set ahead of her, her enemies would suffer, she thought as fresh tears sprung from her eyes. The Gods owe her that courtesy.

Mira lay upon the pallet but she could not sleep. The loss of Naevia was palpable and pierced her skin. She wondered how much suffering a heart could bear. And then she thought of Spartacus, flinching in the square as Crixus was punished. She could see the determination in his eyes. His eyes revealed everything to her. If given the chance, she would aid him in his purpose, the dangerous, unspoken plot she was well aware of and now shared with the Thracian.

He would kill them all.

_**PS:**__ The fabulous ladies Katrina Law (Mira) and Lesley-Ann Brandt (Naevia) read this fic and absolutely loved it! I am very honored and grateful that they would take the time and I encourage all fans to keep writing! _Spartacus _needs more fanfic!_

_**PPS:**__ The sequel to this story has begun in the story titled "Justum Est". It covers Episode 13 - Check it out! And thanks for reading!_


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